In an effort to be more organized with this whole blog/diary/review/journey journal/memory keeper/sanity saver thing I've got going on here, I've decided I want to start writing daily. My deciding to do something pretty much never turns into actually doing it, but I'm going to give it a go and see what happens anyway!
On the home front, Ryan has been super down lately. It's frustrating to say the least. He goes through periods of 2-3 good weeks, and then just drops into an unseen abyss and doesn't surface for days...weeks...it's even been as long as "months" at one point. It's not a fun roller-coaster-type ride for any of us here in the V household. We've been trying all along to get this aspect of things evened out, but it's proven to be a bit more difficult than say, fixing the constant vomiting issue was. And did I mention frustrating? Because WOW. It's really, really, reeeeaaaaalllllyyyyy frustrating. To be fair, it is for him, too. Because he's all like: "Life sucks and I don't want to bother with it, so you take care of it and me and just make it all better, 'k Babe?" And we both know what he wants me to say. But what comes out is always more like: "Nope. Sorry Charlie. Get outta bed Fred. Life is still going on and your still here and I'll be danged if I'm gonna handle it all alone while you snore. Hit the shower, go for a walk, and then get to the kitchen and help with dinner!!!" Frus-Trating. Period.
Yesterday morning, completely of his own accord, he took an early morning shower and even shaved-I heard the buzzer thing going when I woke up. Early on a Sunday morning like that means possibly two things: he's planning on family time at church--or he's planning on couple time. (Crikey, am I even allowed to say that on here?!) Well, irregardless of what he was planning, I woke up feeling like my throat was on fire and my head was trying to explode, so we were going nowhere and doing nothing yesterday. Because I wasn't fully awake yet and my eyes don't work well right upon opening, I hadn't really taken a good look at him. After I told him how I felt he covered his mouth and nose with his tee-shirt to ward off any flying germies, and we talked that way for probably 10 minutes. By that time I was fully awake and seeing properly, and when he let his tee shirt drop off his face I was rendered absolutely speechless. He had shaved. Completely. Goatee gone. And you have to understand that the last time he shaved completely was in May. Of 1997. His last day of duty in the Marine Corp. He has worn a goatee ever since.
In absolute seriousness, and I told him this, had I not just spent 10 minutes talking to him, I would not have known it was him. Had he just woken me up looking like that, I would quite possibly have dived for the gun. He is absolutely unrecognizable. He didn't know if I meant that in a good way or not, and I honestly don't feel bad or good about his new look--it's just incredibly different. He said he just figured he'd try something new, like he did with the Mohawk last summer...he can grow the goatee back in a few weeks if he wants to. Bless his heart, he said he was nervous shaving his upper lip, because he hadn't touched it in nearly 16 years and was trying to do it with "coffee jitters"! :D I couldn't wait for the kids to see him, and it was as funny as I expected it to be---every one of the little ones could not tear their eyes off his face. The whole time they were saying good morning to us they were examining him, little heads cocked to the side, finally asking me in whispered voices "What did Daddy do to his face?" :D I'm desperately trying to get a picture so I can show you guys--but he's pretty sure he hates it and doesn't want "to be put on facebook looking stupid." Poor guy....he obviously doesn't read our blog. I have zero fear of us looking stupid. And I don't think he does, anyway. It's just a very very different look--more shocking even than the 2 inch tall Mohawk was.
It certainly pushed him into a better mood, that little bit of change! Whereas I cling to the norm with a ferocious tenacity, he has no qualms about chasing down and tackling change. I love that about him. I love him. Goatee or no. Mohawk or Fohawk. Even when he's down and I'm tired of walking the edge of his abyss waiting for him to climb out again. I just love him, and I think that has to be what matters the most. Hating the changes, trying to hide from them sometimes, but loving him even while he chases them down like they are nothing to fear at all.
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